A Place For Me Here
by TalysAlankil
Summary: The night of Lydia's wedding to Alec Lightwood, she lost all her plans for the future—until she found a new one.


"It's okay. I'll be fine."

The word left Lydia's mouth as easily as her smile came. There was no heartbreak in that moment. Maybe some disappointment that this couldn't be handled more cleanly; but she could understand that Alec Lightwood couldn't start experimenting with love for the first time while being married to someone else. Political alliances could be found elsewhere—she would not ask what he couldn't handle.

She couldn't help but feel a little bitter when Alec's family and friends rushed to congratulate him and no one but Jace Wayland showed her any sympathy. But that was to be expected from Institute Nephilim; they stuck together before all else. And, admittedly, she had not tried very hard to befriend many of them.

"There's no place for me here," she told Wayland.

"There's always gonna be a place for you here," he retorted, and perhaps he was right. It just wasn't the place she wanted to take.

* * *

She was packing when Isabelle Lightwood surprised her by stopping by her room. She was still in her dark gold dress, radiant and gorgeous—and beaming, even though she was trying to contain her smile right now.

"I heard you were leaving," she said.

"I don't belong here anymore."

Isabelle didn't argue like her foster brother had. She looked down, letting her hair cascade in front of her face. Trying to hide her expression. "After everything you did—"

"I won't apologize for arresting Meliorn. It was my best lead—you should have shared information with me if you wanted to convince me otherwise, instead of acting behind my back. I would have listened, even if you might not believe it."

She caught Isabelle looking at her. It was hard to tell through the curtain of hair, but it seemed to Lydia that she looked…surprised. "I—wasn't talking about Meliorn. Although I haven't properly thanked you for what you did during my trial."

Lydia swallowed hard, fighting to keep her features in check. "I didn't do it for you. I did it because it was right." Though it being _Isabelle_ was definitely an added bonus.

"Still—" Isabelle shook her head. "Anyway. It doesn't matter. What you did for Alec…you helped him make an important step towards accepting himself."

"If anything, thank Magnus."

"Magnus forced his hand," Isabelle retorted—there was a strange note to her tone, but Lydia couldn't place it. "You, though—you just showed him acceptance, unconditionally. I've always accepted Alec, but I'm his sister. Clary accepted it, but she's mundane; she didn't even understand why it was a big deal. But you, a Shadowhunter who had everything to lose by accepting Alec—that'll mean a lot to him."

"Well, I—I could empathize." Lydia didn't— _couldn't_ —elaborate.

"Still—" Isabelle took a step forward, then another, and then she was right in front of Lydia. Her heels made her a few inches taller than Lydia, and her golden dress made Lydia feel dwarfed by comparison in her everyday black clothes. "Thank you. From me _and_ Alec. He might not get around to telling you before you leave—with Magnus and our parents—maybe he doesn't even realize what you've done for him yet—but I know he'll be grateful."

Lydia managed a smile. "Your thanks are enough."

Isabelle held her gaze for a moment, and Lydia thought— _hoped_ —prayed—that she would understand what Lydia meant. That she would say something back. Lydia's heart raced, and she thought of inching forward, of giving an opening or just making the first step herself.

Then Isabelle blinked, and the spell broke. "If you ever feel like coming back to New York, you'll be welcome here."

"Thank you," she said, because she was grateful, and yet she doubted she would come back of her own volition.

* * *

Isabelle had left, and someone else had come in and attacked her—taking the Mortal Cup and snatching Lydia's success on the night where she'd already sacrificed all her plans.

She'd been taken to the Institute's infirmary, and left there without a word. Nobody seemed sure what had happened yet, and Lydia was still recovering, even with the healing runes that had been applied to her, so she couldn't go out and ask if there was any progress. But she was aware of the passage of time. Surely someone would have thought to look at security footage by now. Had no one thought to tell her who had attacked her?

Her anger gave way to exhaustion—a side-effect of the rune, or the injury, or the day that had come before that—and she passed out. Yet when the door opened and she jolted awake, it felt like no time had passed. And if Isabelle was still wearing her golden dress, it couldn't have been _that_ long.

"Hodge attacked you," she said when she met Lydia's gaze. "We think he's been working for Valentine for a while. Jace and Alec have gone out after him."

Lydia nodded, fighting down a sigh. She felt angry—at this Institute for not noticing the traitor in their midst, and at herself, for failing to notice him as well and for getting caught off-guard at all. "The Cup?"

"Hodge took it with him. Valentine probably has it by now."

She'd failed. Truly and utterly _failed_. Tears were welling up behind her eyes, but she held them. "Thanks for letting me know."

Her tone had carried the implied dismissal, but Isabelle came closer, and sat on the bed. "Hodge nearly killed you. I found the footage of it—the blow to your head should have been lethal."

"If I'd been a better Shadowhunter, he wouldn't have hit me at all."

"If you hadn't been such a talented Shadowhunter, you would have fallen head first on that table and you'd be gone. Your reflexes saved your life."

"I still lost the Cup."

"You can't win every battle."

Lydia looked away, feeling like she was on the verge of losing the battle against her own tears. "You don't need to coddle me."

A warm hand landed on her forearm, giving a gentle squeeze. "I don't. But I want to make sure you don't blame yourself. No one would have seen this coming."

"If you're only comforting me because you feel like Alec owes me, don't."

Isabelle chuckled. "Can't I just be kind?"

"Are you?"

Lydia's retort didn't carry much fire in it, but it left Isabelle silent nonetheless. Lydia dared to look up at her again, meeting her eyes, her heart racing again—she suppressed the thought, though. Isabelle's hand on her arm was comforting, but it wouldn't be more.

"I'm not," Isabelle finally said, and Lydia's heart sank. "Maybe I have an agenda. Maybe I saw that you could have died and realized I didn't want you to. Maybe I saw you get hurt twice today and realized I didn't want that, either."

"Letting Alec go didn't hurt me."

"But everyone ignoring you at your own wedding did. And I was part of that. But—" Isabelle took a deep breath. "But that's not my point. My point is, all this made me realize that—" Her eyes fell on Lydia's again, and maybe she read something there, because she paused mid-sentence and just smiled. "Am I right to think it's not just one way?"

Lydia couldn't answer. Instead she gripped Isabelle's arm weakly were it rested against hers, and pulled herself up until she was sitting inches away from Isabelle. With her free hand, she reached out to cup Isabelle's face, and when Isabelle leaned into the touch, she pressed her luck, sliding her fingers through Isabelle's hair.

Then she leaned forward, and pressed her lips against Isabelle's. It had been a while since she'd kissed anyone—since her husband had passed away, really—but she found her footing easily—Isabelle's eager response helped with that.

Their kiss was shorter than she wanted, because Lydia suddenly felt dizzy and nearly collapsed if not for Isabelle's arm holding her. "You need to rest," Isabelle said. "And another healing rune?"

Lydia snorted. "Yes, I think I do." The dizziness had passed, but she wasn't stupid enough to ignore her body's warning signs. Still, she pulled herself upright so she could look into Isabelle's eyes. "We'll—talk about this later?"

Isabelle nodded. "I have to leave on a mission anyway. But we definitely will. Now lie back and give me your arm."

Lydia barely felt the sting of Isabelle's runes through the rush of adrenaline she was still feeling, and a smile lingered on her lips when the runes sent her into unconsciousness.


End file.
